


Jack Sparrow and the Elder Wand

by sleepylotus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: AU, CotBP AU, F/M, potc/harry potter crossover, sparrabeth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-03 21:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepylotus/pseuds/sleepylotus
Summary: Jack Sparrow, pirate and wizard in exile, comes to Port Royal. With the help of his niffler he intends to rob the place blind. But a certain governor's daughter complicates the heist slightly--by stealing his niffler and landing him in gaol.Elizabeth Swann has always known she was different. She suspects it has something to do with a strange knitting needle left to her by her mother, and a letter from a place called Hogwarts delivered by owl when she was 11. This infuriatingly handsome kohl-eyed pirate seems to have the answers she has always longed for, and so she will help him escape from gaol on one condition: teach her magic.This is a sparrabeth Curse of the Black Pearl AU, set loosely in the wizarding world.





	1. Ripe for the Taking

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should preface this fic with an apology? No, I will start with a thank you to the lovely Kirsty and Katie for helping me flesh out the ideas for this on Tumblr. If there's anything brilliant here it was most certainly their idea. <3<3<3 Thanks guys for always steering me straight!
> 
> I only just read the HP books last year and I loved them dearly, but I am by no means an expert in the fandom like I am in POTC lol. So, I'm sorry in advance? XD This is rated T for now, but knowing me will probably shift to M later.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/34100073@N03/35369584594/in/datetaken/)

# 1\. Ripe for the Taking

 

 _Ripe for the taking_.

That was Jack’s first thought as he cruised down the wharf of Port Royal, taking in the sights and sounds of this rich Caribbean colony, the crowds of busy people of every shape size and color. Like a beacon of wealth King’s House sat proudly atop the hill, and Jack resisted the temptation to tip his weathered tricorn hat to the mansion that gleamed so prettily in the tropical sun, knowing that was the first place he would send his wee thieving beasty once night fell.

Trained Nifflers were a deucedly useful animal for a thief to own. Set them in the right direction, kick back and wait for them to bring you some gold. Jack Sparrow bought his in Nassau from a man who had no idea of the creature’s true value. But after years of exile Jack was a seasoned hand at taking advantage of muggles, and bought the little blighter for a song. The merchant, and that was a term used loosely, had been all to glad to be rid of the destructive creature, but with a little rum and hardtack Jack found the niffler to be an agreeable companion indeed.

The day was hot, and Jack’s booted feet began leading him with the intention of finding a tavern where he could wet his whistle and catch up on gossip. There were plenty such establishments that catered to the seafaring folk of the island nearby, he wouldn’t have to walk far.

He paused in his step as a particularly aggravated sound of distress met his ears. Someone was having an argument. A rather heated one.

_None your concern, mate. Keep walking._

This voice gave good advice, and he heeded it more often than not. He’d learned the hard way what thankless trouble nobility would bring a man.

But again there was a cry—of _outrage,_ he deduced, and it didn’t particularly sound of the masculine variety.

_You’ll regret this._

Jack had no doubt, as he wheeled on his heel and headed towards the ruckus. Pushing his way through a crowd of onlookers, he found a very large dockhand gripping a very slight but tall lad by the shoulders, toes barely touching the ground.

It wasn’t a lad, of course. Despite her boyish costume Jack could see that immediately, in the curve of her jaw, the line of her cheek, and a rather gloriously long golden ponytail sticking out the back of her tricorn. He wondered if anyone else noticed, or cared.

“Tommy me lad!” Jack exclaimed, swinging arms wide in a theatrical gesture that parted the crowd even more. “There you are! Been looking everywhere for ye.”

The mountain of a man turned his anvil of a head in Jack Sparrow’s direction, affecting a scowl that may have felled a lesser pirate. The boy— _girl_ —turned towards Jack as well, wide chocolate brown eyes fixing him with a look that hit him rather like a poke between the eyes. For a moment he lost his place, only catching the end of the gargantuan dock hand’s sentence. “—owes me a crate of oranges, seeing as he knocked the one I was carrying into the drink. I won’t have me wages docked for this stupid sprat.” Jack peered over the edge of the dock, seeing that a great deal of orange little globes did seem to be bobbing about in the waves.

“ _I_ didn’t make you drop those oranges,” the poorly disguised girl spat. “Someone bumped into me and I bumped into you—you just caught _me_ , is all.” For someone who was clearly outweighed by eight stone, she gave as good as she got.

“Ah, no matter, lad,” grumbled Jack theatrically, siddling closer, rifling at his belt. He waved his hand in a gesture that seemed to indicate the dockhand should put her down. When Jack withdrew a pouch that could be a purse, the dockhand did so, reluctantly. “Clumsy as a newborn colt, is our Tommy, my good sir, terribly sorry for your inconvenience and the distress the situation has caused you, all that produce finding its way into the sea, terrible waste really RUN!”

Jack pulled upon a rope tied off upon a loading boom being used by a nearby boat to offload cargo. A rope of which Jack noticed was rather looped about one of the big dockhand’s ankles. As crates on the one end crashed to the deck of the nearby boat the dockhand went flying into the water amidst his oranges.

The girl stared dumbfounded at the splashing giant with those wide brown eyes, and did not start running until Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her into the crowd. They disappeared into the teeming throng of the docks, cut down an alleyway that fed into High Street, across the crowded thoroughfare, and then another alley just for safe measure.

Gasping for breath, the girl howled with laughter when finally they came to a stop. “That was bloody brilliant! Thank you, mister?”

Jack hesitated on his name for a second, but led by some instinct that would undoubtedly get him into even more trouble he answered, “Jack Sparrow, at your service. And you are, Miss…?”

“Miss?! Nay, I’m—”

With a fey grin and a conjurer’s sleight of hand Jack swept her hat from her head, releasing even more of that unruly golden blonde hair. The sight hit him rather like a punch to the gut—even with dirt on her face and in boy’s clothes, there was no hiding the fact that she was _lovely._

She swallowed, eyes casting about the alley, suddenly unsure of her rescuer’s intentions after all. Her hand was still clasped in his, and she couldn’t help but notice the strength in his calloused grip. He looked _terribly_ exotic, with a mane of black hair braided in with all manners of beads and trinkets. He was handsome in a way that was almost _pretty,_ and yet there was a fierceness to him as well, black eyes outlined in dark kohl. Said eyes swept over her from head to toe, and how was it just a _look_ could raise gooseflesh _in this heat_ across her entire body?

Understanding her sudden trepidation all too well, Jack assured her, “I mean you no harm.”

She bit her lip, finding that she wanted to believe him, knowing it would be terribly foolish all the while. “I…Elizabeth,” she answered, and cleared her throat, trying not to choke on her words. “That is to say, my _name_ is Elizabeth,” she answered, slightly more articulately.

Jack paid her a smile that flashed gold, his thumb caressing the back of her hand in a way that made her gasp. “Well then, _Elizabeth._ ” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, a thing of which that left her feeling rather _conflicted._ “If you’re going to gallivant about as a boy…” He replaced her hat gingerly upon her head. “You might watch your step next time.”

“I usually do,” she answered. “I really was pushed.”

Jack smirked, as though he didn’t exactly believe her. It won him a pointed glare that only seemed to delight him further. “Of course you were, darlin’. Well, _Lizzy_ , I have just arrived in your fair city and I am famished. Care to catch a bite to eat with me?”

“I…” Elizabeth gnawed upon her lip, and Jack’s eyes were drawn to her mouth. She wanted to. How _badly_ she wanted to. But she’d already had one misadventure today. If she was recognized cavorting in a dockside _tavern—_ with this handsome rogue, no less…father would have her married off faster than she could blink. After her scare she simply didn’t trust herself to pull off the caper. “I think it would be best if I returned home, actually.”

Jack Sparrow’s lower lip protruded in a pout that should have been a _ridiculous_ expression on a grown man. Somehow, however, it was utterly _endearing_. “Very well. Shall I walk you home?”

Sadly, Elizabeth shook her head no, and Jack sighed, understanding all too well. He wondered who she was, where she lived, and what she was doing out and about in boy’s clothes. By her accent he judged she moonlighted in the higher circles of the island, but sadly, it seemed he would never know. “Shame, that. You’re going to wish you said yes,” he teased, wagging a be-ringed finger before turning to leave her to her own devices, even as something rather _hostile_ inside him clawed and insisted that he turn right back around.

“Jack!” she called, cursing that note in her voice that betrayed how much she didn’t want him to go.

Slowly he turned, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. “I…” She dared to take a step closer. “I should thank you in some way, for helping me…”

_Come with me, then._

This voice was the decidedly _less_ helpful one, the one that got Jack into too much trouble. Luckily, he managed to bite down on the words before they could escape upon his clever tongue. Instead he managed a rather gentlemanly, “No worries, love. Happy to do it.”

But she was nearing closer, and damn if his heart didn’t take up residence in the bottom of his throat. She licked her lips nervously, rather betraying what she had on her mind as she stood before him. Jack _forced_ himself to stand still, letting her do all the digging of this increasingly fine looking hole they found themselves in. Her hands seemed so small as they lighted upon his chest, tentative as a little bird, steadying herself as she stood on tiptoe and those lush full lips pressed a kiss to his _cheek_ , ever so sweetly.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and Jack felt a tremor in his _bones_. He couldn’t remember the last time _anyone_ had extended such a token to him, for free. As she lowered herself back to the ground he clenched his fists at his sides, resisting the urge to grab her up and show her what it felt like to _really_ kiss a man like him.

She was curious.

He could tell by the way those eyes like warm chocolate kept flitting to his mouth.

_Ripe for the taking._

He felt like a puppet on a string as he lifted his hand, caressing her cheek lightly with the back of his knuckles, watching hungrily as her eyes slipped closed. It would be so easy, like taking candy from a baby, to just lean down and press his mouth to hers…

Jack released a shuddering sigh, somehow already certain this would haunt him for the rest of his days. “Anytime.” He hardly recognized his own voice, sounding as though he’d eaten a handful of gravel. Slowly he backed away, and with a tip of his hat he made himself duck into the traffic of the next street, sadly convinced he would never see that girl again. Tonight his niffler would makes its run, and he would sail with the next day's tide.


	2. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth finds a strange creature in her bedroom.

# 2\. New Friends

 

Though it was late Elizabeth lay awake in her bed, staring up at the gauzy draperies of her canopy. She’d been into _the box_ again, and she never slept well after looking at her collection of illicit treasures she kept hidden from her father.

There was a thin stick that had been her mother’s. Elizabeth now assumed it was a knitting needle, though nowhere in her memory did she recall seeing her mother with a pair of these knobby sticks. Just the one, worn smooth by years and years of use, she supposed. Sometimes her mother had it in her hand when Elizabeth would burst into her room, and Mother would put it away carefully before giving Elizabeth her attention.

She’d been very young, and Elizabeth wished her memories of her mother were better. _A great beauty,_ many told her. _She could turn every head upon entering a room._ Elizabeth remembered that, she supposed, though what little girl doesn’t find her mother to be the fairest of them all?

There was also a letter that she kept in her box of secrets. Another thing she was not supposed to have, but Elizabeth had managed to save it from the fires that had constantly burned when Elizabeth turned eleven, and their townhouse in London was set upon by a hoard of owls bearing letters. _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Somehow she suspected the answers she’d always sought lay _there,_ but she’d never been able to go. Her father utterly _refused_ to broach the subject, or to even acknowledge the owls existence, and that was that.

She dreamed of running away sometimes, to find this place called Hogwarts. Would they greet her with open arms, whoever these people were? Were they _strange_ like her? She knew she was different. She knew it in her bones. Sometimes, she could make things _happen._ Little things, small miracles, things of which she never dared crow to her father. But it made her wonder, made her _long._ For what, she didn’t exactly know.

Her father wished her to marry soon, and then she _really_ would never have a chance to discover…whatever it was she knew must be out there. Her father wished her to marry James Norrington, and it was no small secret that once the Captain earned his promotion to Commodore he would be asking for Elizabeth’s hand. Elizabeth liked James well enough. He was kind and sweet, tall and handsome and had no lack of prize money, which didn’t hurt if one was honest. However, it annoyed her the way her father talked sometimes as though the engagement was already set in stone.

Perhaps she would surprise him, when the moment came. Perhaps she would surprise _everyone._

Restless, Elizabeth shifted in her bed, looking out the open window. _He_ was out there, she knew. Her handsome savior, unlikely hero though she suspected he was. She wondered what Jack was doing, while she lay bored and alone in her bed. Probably in a tavern with a wench upon each knee, she thought wistfully. A man like that wouldn’t hurt for company. She recalled his dark eyes and fey smile—even the gold in his teeth was attractive somehow. It suited him, his utter _strangeness._

_Other._

That man was distinctly _other,_ like nothing she’d ever known.

She imagined what it might be like to don her boy’s costume and sneak out into the night to find him. Would he be pleased to see her again? Would he kiss her sweetly, _and then perhaps not so sweetly,_ as she’d secretly wanted him to in that alley but had not the courage to take for herself? What might it have been like to let him place those strong calloused sailor’s hands upon her waist, and perhaps press her against the brick wall of the nearby building…his lips upon hers, and her neck, and whispering in her ear _now you’ve found trouble, little girl._ The thought made her heart race and her body flush all over.

Suddenly rather hot, she threw off the sheet.

Elizabeth finally almost managed to drift off to sleep when she heard a rustling near her bureau across the room. Sitting up, she peered into the shadows. Something small and dark was ferreting about, and darted behind the dresser. A rat? Her heart pounded in her chest. However, she didn’t fancy rousing Estrella, or the whole house for that matter.

Elizabeth slipped from her bed, arming herself with a shoe. The rustling had shifted, sounding as though it was _inside_ her bureau now. _Inside_ the drawer where she kept her surplus of jewels (father tended to spoil her _a tad_ ). Bravely she clasped the handles and pulled quickly.

The strangest creature she had ever laid eyes on lay on its back in the drawer, plump and furry, with a bill almost like a duck’s. Quickly it shoved a gold and emerald necklace into a pouch in its belly, looking up at Elizabeth with beady little eyes.

It was _adorable_.

“Well hello there.”

She lowered her shoe, knowing immediately that she wouldn’t have the heart to strike it.

The little creature sniffed in her direction, though when she dared reach for it the thing immediately vaulted out of the drawer and scurried across the room, taking shelter under her bed. Elizabeth was flabbergasted by how fast the little thing moved. She crouched down by the bed, peering underneath.

“I won’t hurt you,” she coaxed, reaching out a friendly hand. “Come here, little fellow.”

Jet black eyes blinked, but the creature stayed put.

Then an idea struck her. Elizabeth had a bit of a sweet tooth, and she always squirrelled away a few extra of Cook’s famous ginger cakes from tea to keep in her room, just in case. She went to retrieve them from a box on her dresser, unwrapping them from their serviette. Breaking off a piece, she set it under the bed. Then another at the edge of the bed. The rest she held in her hand, and patiently she lay down on the floor, waiting.

Eventually the creature began to emerge, its duck-billed little snout sniffing the air industriously. The sounds it made while doing so were impossibly endearing, and like viewing a kitten or a puppy she felt the most overwhelming urge to snuggle it in her arms.

But she did not move, waiting for her opportune moment.

The creature approached the first bit of ginger cake, sniffing it thoroughly before devouring it in a matter of seconds. It scuttled over to the next bit, and devoured it too. It looked up with wise little eyes, viewing its next quarry clasped in Elizabeth’s hand.

Slowly it approached.

She held out her palm flat as though feeding a horse,

The creature—what on earth _was_ it?—devoured the cake in her hand quickly, and took a step back as though expecting her to grab it. However, she did not move, and the thing bravely came forward, interested in the rest of the cakes she kept pressed to her bosom. When it was within reach she slowly lifted a hand, and was amazed when the animal let her pet it. Its pelt was luxuriously soft, like rabbit fur. She gave it another cake, and kept petting it, and scratched it behind what might have been its ears.

It ate all the cakes.

Next it sniffed at her nose, and then full to the gills with cake, it curled up beside Elizabeth and let her stroke its fur, emitting a little sound that _almost_ resembled a purr.

It seemed Elizabeth had made a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and your comments, they make me so happy! <3<3<3


	3. Clever Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzy receives a midnight visitor.

# 3\. Clever Girl

 

Jack waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The niffler did not return.

He heard no rumblings of a strange robbery at the King’s House the next day in the tavern, and he began to worry.

To _wonder!_

He was merely _curious,_ is all, what possibly could have happened to that usually unstoppable little light-finger. He was not _concerned_ for his safety, just his investment. It was a valuable animal, after all…

Late into the night and still no sign of the beastie Jack decided with a heavy sigh that it was time to go looking. For this task he produced a very special compass, a device which pointed to the thing a man wants most. Sticking to the shadows, Jack followed the needle up the hill, to the gates of the King’s House. Exactly where he'd left the niffler and set him upon the riches inside.

Jack tilted his compass, and saw that the needle not only pointed to the mansion, but also _up_.

The second story.

Of all the bloody inconveniences. Was the niffler trapped? Did they catch the little thief and throw him in a cage? Did he accidentally manage to lock himself in a drawer filled with jewels? With another deep sigh Jack realized he was going to have to climb.

Jack managed to make it up the trellis to the balcony surprisingly quietly, and somehow unseen. His luck even continued to hold when the well-oiled French door opened with hardly a sound. The room was shadowed, the occupant in bed, as any respectable toff should be at this late hour. Curious as to who exactly the occupant might be, Jack peered closer into the gauzily outfitted bed, and his jaw nearly fell to the floor.

It was _the girl_.

 _The_ _girl_ , who had not left his thoughts, much to his annoyance, for the duration of his stay in Port Royal. He’d known she was posh but he didn’t imagine she lived in the _Governor’s mansion_. A daughter? Surely too young to be a wife…

And then he noticed something even more unlikely— _the girl_ was snuggled up in bed with _his niffler_.

Jack bit down on a sound that undoubtedly would have come out as a growl. And not only because he was jealous of a disloyal little imp that was supposed to steal gold, not his girl.

The snoozing pair seemed to be rather deep in the land of dreams, and so Jack dared to take a look about the lavishly appointed chamber. As any good pirate would, he looked to her vanity, the usual place a lady kept her jewels.

Jack did not see jewels, however. He saw something far more interesting.

_A wand._

Astonished, Jack found himself nearing closer, a hand already greedily extended. When his fingers closed around the knobby yet worn-smooth wood a thrill shot up his arm. He inspected the instrument of magic. Rather long, and it looked _old_. A family heirloom, perhaps?

It had been _ages_ since Jack last held a wand in hand. It inspired a heady sense of power, a medley of elation and bitter sweetness that sent a strange tremor through his bones.

_A dark night._

_A bitter duel._

_Forbidden words uttered with utmost conviction._

Cutler Beckett, the nasty little cunt, had more than deserved them, and despite the price he’d paid Jack still wasn’t sorry. Not for _that_ , at any rate.

Expulsion. Exile. _Had_ it been worth it?

Next he noticed a worn piece of parchment with a very familiar coat of arms embossed at the top. _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._ The letter went on to congratulate _Miss Elizabeth Swann_ for her acceptance and invite her to attend classes at the beginning of term. Clicking his tongue, Jack shook his head with wonder. _That_ was a turn he’d not expected. "Lizzy, Lizzy, you’re just full of surprises, love."

But then, perhaps he'd grown lax at identifying his kind in the wilds out here. It was a hard lesson that had lost him his beloved _Black Pearl_ , nearly a decade ago, to a dark wizard named Barbossa.

The urge to revisit old abilities overtook Jack, and he could not resist the impulse to wield the wand. A simple spell. The most basic incantation. The whispered words left his lips like the familiar name of an old friend. " _Wingardium Leviosa_."

A box on the vanity began to levitate, and the flash of gold in Jack's smile lit up the room.

"What are you doing?"

Startled, Jack turned towards the bed, and the box crashed to the table top with an alarming _bang_.

Her voice grew louder, panicked. "You?! How dare you? I—"

Jack flicked the wand. " _Silencio_."

Silence fell upon the room again, and Jack strode to Lizzy's bedside. "I think you know very well, little witch."

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. _Witch?_ And how _dare_ he enter her bedroom, and paw her things, and saunter so confidently across her floor? She tried to speak but was unable to make a sound.

As Jack brazenly took the liberty of sitting on the edge of her bed Lizzy clutched the niffler closer to her chest. The creature regarded Jack with its beady little eyes, appearing rather suspicious of its rightful owner.

Jack chucked Elizabeth under the chin gently. "This is quite a wand you have here, darlin'."

She frowned, shooting him a glare that could have _killed_.

"And I'll be having my niffler back."

Elizabeth shook her head no fiercely, and Jack's answering smile was almost apologetic.

"Fraid so, love."

Again she shook her head, clutching the creature closer. Jack sighed. Though the thought of wrestling in this bed with her rather titillated, this wasn't _exactly_ how he envisioned it.

"How bout we make a trade then? A kiss for the critter. A _real_ kiss. I could tell that you wanted one earlier."

Her expression darkened into sheer mutiny. Her lips moved, and slowly sound came out. Jack was impressed that she could fight off his charm so soon. "...can't take Snuffles and you can shove your _real_ kiss, you vile, greedy—"

Jack raised an eyebrow. " _Snuffles_ , eh? That didn't take long. Turncoat little bugger." He pinched the niffler's furry little bum, not hard, but still earned what could only be a dirty look from the beast. “What have you been feeding him? Feels like he’s gained half a stone.”

Lizzy held _Snuffles_ away protectively. "Don't taunt him."

Jack sighed, unable to suppress his smile. "One way or another, love, I’m leaving with that animal." He held up the wand admiringly. "And perhaps this too. I rather like it." Ever since his wand had been seized no other he’d managed to get his hands on had ever _quite_ worked right for Jack. But this one seemed promising so far.

"Wand? That's a _knitting needle_. I think. It was my mothers and you shant have it either." She reached for it, but Jack only held it overhead tauntingly, bringing her in close. She didn't realize until it was too late, and quickly sat back in the bed again, unnerved by how _easy_ it was to enter his personal space, as though she belonged there. She should have been afraid to find this dark stranger in her boudoir, but mostly she was angry, and… _curious._ Too bloody curious for her own good.

"And just how do you propose to stop me?"

"I'll scream," she threatened.

Jack's smile glinted gold.

"Not if I can help it." He didn't intend to use a charm to silence her this time either, looking down at her lips.

"Cad."

"Guilty. Afraid I exhausted my monthly allotment for gentlemanly behavior our last meeting, love. M’ fresh out now."

She eyed him distrustfully, her gaze casting between him and the wand. "Tell me how you did that. With the box. And..." She touched her mouth, and Jack's gaze followed her fingers longingly.

Jack frowned. If she really didn't know...well he planned to obliviate her anyway. They could sit here and talk all night... That actually sounded rather nice, considering.

"You really don't know?"

She shook her head, though a sudden excitement galloped in her veins. Was this the moment she'd always been waiting for?

"But you received your letter?"

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment before divulging, "The owls came in droves. My father tried to keep the letters from me, but...I managed to save one. And then we came to the Caribbean. What is _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_?"

A long pained sigh escaped Jack, as often did when he so much as thought of his alma mater. "Just as the name implies, love. A school of magic. Apparently you were called."

"Were _you_?"

"Aye, though a _bit_ longer ago than you, I imagine."

"Then you're..."

"A wizard. Well, I _was_." _Was._ As if the decree of some stuck up old codgers on a council could really say what he _was_ or _was not_. The magic lived inside him, was _his,_ whether they liked it or not.

"Could you teach me?"

Immediately Jack shook his head no. "Sorry darlin. Not my forte."

She frowned again, clearly disappointed. "And what was it you called this little fellow?"

"A _niffler_." Snuffles emerged from the bend of her neck to nuzzle her nose, and she smiled, returning the creature’s affectionate gesture.

"Well, do you know where I found our niffler friend?"

"I can guess."

"My jewelry drawer."

"But somehow you distracted him I see, the lucky little git. No small feat when this wee beastie is on the scent of treasures, believe me."

Elizabeth paid him a smug smile, not revealing the secret of her success.

"You're a thief."

"Finally arrived at that, eh? Though technically _he's_ the thief," said Jack, nodding at Snuffles.

She lifted one sculpted dark brow. "And I thought you were a good man."

"Must the two things be mutually exclusive?"

"Ha!"

"Sorry to have disappointed you."

He didn't look sorry in the least. Long moments passed in which they quietly regarded each other, Elizabeth digesting this new information, and Jack quietly trying to work out how to maneuver the conversation towards kissing again.

Finally Elizabeth spoke. "You really shouldn’t be in here."

The pirate sighed.

"So eager to be rid of me? Fine. Give me my niffler and I'll be off."

"I think not."

"This again? I really am curious how you plan to stop me." Cheekily Jack shifted to sprawl out at her feet, propping himself up on one elbow. He was like a big cat at rest, lean, powerful, at ease in his surroundings as though he owned everything he surveyed. Elizabeth did not seem _half_ as scandalized as she should have been.

"I suppose that depends on what else you can do with that,” said the governor’s daughter, looking to the wand clasped loosely in Jack’s nimble fingers.

“Oh, I reckon I can do plenty yet, sweetheart,” he assured her with a rather _infuriating_ smirk. Perhaps it had been years, but some things a wizard did not forget. Mayhap he’d not been the best _student,_ but Jack had had a memory like a lockbox for useful spells.

Elizabeth jutted her chin defiantly, causing his smile to widen more. “I still don’t believe you’ll hurt me.”

A slow sigh escaped the pirate. “No, I won’t hurt you, Lizzy,” he admitted.

“Then show me more magic,” she challenged, daring to slip out from under the sheet to lay parallel to him on the bed. Her nightgown was rather plain and perfectly opaque, and yet it clung to her curves in ways that made Jack’s stomach tie up in knots. Snuffles snuggled up against her bosom, and Jack really was rather jealous of that damn niffler, the lucky little bugger.

Though he knew it was a bad idea—most of his impulses involving this girl were—Jack felt the urge to use his magic more, like flexing a muscle not used in ages. “ _Lumos_ ,” he whispered, and the end of the wand began to gently glow. The soft light illuminated the pure _delight_ upon her comely features, and Jack felt an answering warmth bloom in his heart. She reached up to touch the light, her fingers passing through the brilliant rays. No heat, but a tingling sensation trilled down her arm.

“Do more,” she requested, well— _demanded,_ but once warmed up Jack couldn’t resist the urge to show off to a pretty girl. “Make something float again.”

Reluctant to move, Jack looked about and felt in his pockets, finding a copper piece. Placing it on the counterpane between them, he pointed the wand. “ _Wingardium leviosa._ ”

It levitated off the bed, and with a laugh Elizabeth reached out to pluck it from the air, turning the coin over in her fingers. It appeared to be a perfectly normal coin, found anywhere on the island. She placed it on the bed between them again.

“Do something else.”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle. After thinking a moment he tapped the coin, whispering, “ _Avifors_.” A flash of blue light emitted from the tip of the wand, and the coin transformed into a glowing blue songbird that flitted about the room, flying in circles before escaping out an open window.

Jack made a face.

That was his _last_ coin. Hopefully _Snuffles’_ unending pouch was filled with Lizzy’s jewels still.

Still delighted, a glowing Lizzy turned her attention from the window back to Jack. “Do you think _I_ can do it?”

“Took me a few years to master that one, love.”

“A simple spell then? Perhaps the light one. Is it hard?”

Jack pressed his lips. It would be an ideal place for her to start, and he could _see_ the hunger in her eyes to try it. “You’re taking all this rather in stride.”

She laughed at herself, looking down at Snuffles, scratching the back of his head in a way that made the little animal emit the equivalent of a niffler purr. “I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life, Jack. I feel like I’ve always _known_ …but I’ve never had anyone to talk to about it until now.”

Jack’s heart broke for her a little in that moment. He knew all too well what it was like to have magic but not have the means to be able to use it.

“We’ll try the light spell,” he found himself saying, handing her the wand. When her fingers brushed his something like lightning jetted down his arm, and he forced himself to stay still. “Hold it like so. Firm, but no need to strangle it. Say _lumos._ ”

“ _Lumos_.”

 Nothing happened, and she sighed with disappointment.

“That’s alright, keep trying. You have to…you have to _feel_ it, Lizzy. You have to _know_ you have it inside you. You have to know that when you say the words you will make that light appear at the end of this wand. Believe it, and the wand will answer your command.”

She bit her lip, her pretty features screwed up in concentration. “ _Lumos_.” There were sparks at the wand tip, and then steadily a light grew and grew at the tip of the wand, until it was nearly _blinding_ it burned so bright. Afraid the flash would draw unwanted attention, Jack covered the wand tip with his hand.

“Bloody hell, lass. Now _that’s_ a light spell!”

She laughed, a sound like a bell filled with pure joy, and again that indescribable warmth flooded Jack’s chest. _Merlin’s beard, but she was lovely._ The urge to reach out and touch her was _palpable_ , and his hands curled into fists as he resisted the temptation again. Slowly, the happiness leaked from her features, replaced by a smile that was rather…smug.

Slowly her eyes travelled down to the wand that had been in Jack’s hand, that was now in _her_ hand.

It dawned on him a second too late what a besotted bloody fucking fool he was.

With surprising accuracy she tossed the powerful stick out the open window, and Jack watched it sail out of sight with a sad astonishment.

_Clever girl._

For a moment their eyes met, and he might have read the _slightest_ regret in those big brown orbs before she opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.


	4. Crossed Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack receives a visitor in gaol.

# 4\. Crossed Hearts

 

It was not the first time Jack had spent a sojourn in gaol, though the experience never really improved with practice. For three days he was left to languor in a cell, sore as the devil and staring at the wall.

 _She got you,_ he kept thinking. _She got you_ good.

He should have been angry, but strangely he couldn’t find it in him. Miffed, yes. Annoyed, certainly. But the trick had been worthy of… _him,_ really, and he couldn’t help but be a bit impressed.

It certainly didn’t help the _longing_ he felt in his breast either, which was about the stupidest fucking thing he could possibly waste energy on at that point in time. What was she, a goddam veela?

Jack Sparrow brooded late into the night, and had only begun to drift off when a figure in a dark cloak appeared at the bars of his cell. He sat up a bit—personages in dark cloaks rarely boded well, where he came from. Yet when said personage swept back the hood—damn if his breath didn’t catch in his throat.

_Elizabeth._

“What the bloody hell do _you_ think you’re doing here?” he hissed, and with a finger to her lips she gestured for him to keep his voice down.

“I had a thought to rescue you,” she answered quietly, seeming unfazed that she was the reason he was here in the first place.

“A change of heart? How _sweet_.” Jack did not sound pleased, though really his annoyance masked _other things_ that were playing havoc with his usually well-developed sense of self preservation.

“A change in the balance of power, more like.” She paid him a knowing smile that hit him like punch to the gut. It actually physically hurt, because he already _had_ been punched in the gut, several times.

_Clever girl._

“Indeed. Say you get me out of here. What do you think I would give you?”

“I want you to teach me what you know.” _About magic_ hung unsaid between them.

Jack laughed. “I haven’t the time or the patience, love. I’m not the teacher you want.”

“But you _are_ all I have.”

“You think your father will just let me set up class in the parlor of King’s House?” snarked the pirate.

“Of course not. You’ll have to take me with you…wherever it is you go. Surely you have a home somewhere, Jack Sparrow?”

The proposition suddenly seemed _terribly_ more interesting.

“Now _that’s_ a bold request from a high-born maiden like yourself. You’d be ruined, you know.”

“I don’t care.” Her heart pounded in her chest as she uttered the words, but she realized they were utterly true. Propriety meant nothing to her, next to _this,_ whatever it was. Fate? Destiny? Perhaps even _her birthright?_ Had her mother been a witch as well? She had so many questions, and she would have paid a King’s ransom for the answers. Her reputation seemed like small potatoes, considering.

Jack’s expression sharpened at hearing that, his eyebrows shooting high into his bandana. “Don’t you now? Aren’t you afraid you’ve used up my goodwill? Or are you still convinced I won’t hurt you? They weren’t exactly gentle with me, you know, after you screamed bloody murder on me. Maybe I reckon I owe you a little.”

She hesitated a little, but in the end she declared, “You wouldn’t do me harm.” Mostly, she was sure of it.

Jack laughed a little, stroking the jaw that the guards had walloped as they drug him out of King’s House. It was still _quite_ sore. “What makes you so certain?”

“You could have ravished me in my bed the other night, but you didn’t. Even if…perhaps you wanted to. You’re not a violent man.” Somehow her words were both coy and innocent, a befuddling combination.

“Perhaps I _should_ have,” he mused, shooting a look of annoyance her way. “But it’s true that unwilling women have never interested me much.”

There was a hitch in her breath, and she only just resisted revealing she might not have been so unwilling. That was the _last_ thing he needed to know, though perhaps by the way he was looking at her, he knew anyway…

“And what makes you think I would trust _you_ again _,_ darlin’? We were having such a lovely time before you tricked me.”

Elizabeth had the grace to look down, though she knew she wasn’t half as sorry as he would like her to be. “We were, it’s true. But you were going to take Snuffles. _And_ my mother’s wand. I couldn’t allow it.”

 _Wand._ There, she said it. Not a needle. An object of _magic._ Excitement quickened her heart as the word left her lips, the existence of such wonders becoming more and more real with every passing second.

Jack’s lips twisted into a reluctant smile. “I suppose I do admire a woman who is willing to do whatever is necessary.”

Lizzy released a slow breath, sensing she hovered on the edge of something dangerous and too _fantastic_ to properly describe _._ “Then do we have an accord?”

Slowly Jack stood, moving stiffly to join Lizzy at the bars. She watched the way he moved with a furrow in her brow. She’d known gaol wouldn’t be pleasant, but she didn’t think they would _beat_ him. However, discipline around the fort always ran a little lax when James Norrington was away on a patrol. Guilt left a sour taste on the back of her tongue, but she swallowed it. Showing weakness to this man would be a grand mistake, she knew that much at least.

“Just _how_ might I ask do you propose to get me out of here?”

Elizabeth produced the knobby wand from inside her cloak. There was rustling and a small sound, and Jack realized she had the niffler under there as well. Miss Swann was ready to fly the gilded coop, it seemed.

“With this, of course. Don’t you know a spell?”

Jack’s smile glinted gold. “As a matter of fact I do, love.”

He reached for the wand, but she held it just out of reach.

“Promise me,” she demanded. “Give me your word that you won’t run off without me once you’re out of here.”

Jack made a sound deep in his throat. He _hated_ promises because one way or another he always seemed to break them, and yet…he couldn’t bring himself to let this—to let _her—_ pass him by. It was more than likely he would be hanged for this, but somehow it just might be worth it.

“Cross my heart, dearie.”

_And hope to die._

Hopefully that part was _wholly_ unnecessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! This is ridiculously fun to write! XD Did I mention its my birthday? Leave me a birthday comment if you enjoyed!


	5. Overboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Elizabeth's curiosity is seemingly insatiable.

# 5\. Overboard

 

"We might have to make a stop in another port, love, considering you succeeded in distracting my wee thieving beastie," said Jack, adjusting a line to pull the sail tighter to the wind. Their vessel was small enough to be handled by one man, but large enough for two. As long as they met no bad storms they would make their journey across the azure waters safe enough. "I fear you chose to run away with a _penniless_ pirate."

Elizabeth did not seem miffed at all, however. For a girl who had always slept on feather beds, she had adjusted to shipboard life surprisingly well. "Whatever do you mean, Jack? Snuffles, come here." It was hard to say if the niffler responded to her command or the bit of ginger cake pulled from her pocket. After his snack he lay on his back and after some belly scratching allowed Elizabeth to pull the contents out of his bottomless pouch. The pile of necklaces, earrings, and rings grew and grew on the deck , as did the size of Jack's eyes.

"Did _all that_ come out of _your_ room?"

"Most of it." She picked up a diamond encrusted shoe buckle. "These are father's. He won’t even miss them."

"Must be nice."

Elizabeth had the grace to look sheepish. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize to me, Lizzy."

She smiled a little, seeming to like her nickname, improper and familiar as it was.

“How did you become a pirate Jack?”

This was not a subject he relished discussing. “It just suited me, I suppose.”

Elizabeth raised a skeptical brow. “No one becomes a pirate because they _want_ to,” she insisted. “Men become pirates because they have no choice.”

Jack narrowed kohl-darkened eyes. This girl was _far_ too astute for her own good. “I don’t need your pity, love.”

“I wasn’t offering any. But I’m curious about you. Is that so awful?”

Jack sighed and tied off another line, resisting the impulse to dump his whole life story at her feet. Finally he answered, “Well, I had a choice, but I made a bad one. Got myself expelled in my sixth year, and had to make my own way.”

Elizabeth knew there was _a lot_ left out in between those lines, and her expression said as much. “Why did they kick you out?”

There was a long pause, Jack clearly considering whether he wanted to answer or not. In the end he finally admitted, "For fighting. I used a spell that is unforgiveable among the law abiding citizens of the wizarding world."

"Why?"

"Because the twat I was dueling with was trying to kill _me_ with a _nastier_ unforgivable curse. I just got caught, and his da had a whole lot more influence than mine with the _Wizengamot_. But I suppose you could say I got off easy because I was still a lad—usually the cruciatus curse will land you a nice long stay in Azkaban _._ ”

“Azkaban?”

A long pained sigh escaped Jack, but he supposed he had better get used to answering questions. “Wizard prison. Guarded by dementors. Nasty things that eat at your soul.”

Elizabeth bit at her lip, wondering if he was pulling her leg. _Eat your soul?_ Though she could tell his patience was wearing thin, she dared ask, “And the cruciatus curse?”

Jack appeared more reluctant to answer that one. He still wasn’t sorry, but somehow it was hard to admit to _her_ that he’d done it. “A torture spell. Causes unbearable pain.”

Her dark eyes went wide as saucers, and Jack wondered if she would re-evaluate her decree that he was not a violent man. After a few long beats her voice came quieter. “Did he deserve it? This boy you were fighting?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a nasty little git and we’ll leave it at that.”

Elizabeth digested what he said, and finally offered, "Oh Jack. That's awful." Jack shrugged, not entirely certain her sympathy was genuine. "What did you do? Go back to your family?"

A bitter little laugh escaped him before he could stop himself. "No family to go to. My parents died when I was just a wee thing. I lived with my grandfather, cranky old codger, who told me I'd best make Slytherin or not come back."

"Make _what_?"

Jack barely suppressed a sigh. "First year students are sorted into the four houses of Hogwarts. They put a talking hat on yer head and it reads your thoughts, decides where to put you."

Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with laughter. "A talking hat? Are you serious?" Seeing her smile miraculously made him feel a bit better about his lot.

"Serious as the grave, love." His smile flashed gold. "The hat reads your heart of hearts. Places Slytherin for the sly and ambitious. Hufflepuff for the sweet and nurturing. Ravenclaw for the curious and intellectual. And Gryffindor for the brave and dumb."

"And in which house were you placed?"

Jack recalled his private conversation with the hat, what seemed like a lifetime ago. How he'd _begged_ the threadbare old pile to put him anywhere but Slytherin, if for anything just to spite his grandfather. _Are you sure?_ had asked the aged chapeau. _You would do well in Slytherin, young man._

But Jack wanted to be nothing like his grandfather Teague, even at that young age.

"Which do you think?"

She giggled a little. "Hufflepuff, surely."

"Eh? Could be." The thought warmed him a bit for some reason, especially after recalling the truth of his darkest hour as a young wizard.

"Slytherin sounds like it could have been a match, but it can't have been or your grandfather would have been pleased. You're obviously very smart. Ravenclaw?"

Jack grinned. "You're kind, darlin."

" _Gryffindor_?"

"The very one."

"Brave and dumb. Well then."

He'd been surprised too, truth be told. There were days when he felt certain the hat had been wrong. Somedays he felt better suited to Ravenclaw, voraciously curious about everything, lost in his books on every subject under the sun. Somedays he very much felt he belonged in Slytherin, when scheming to some end or another, seeing the twists and turns in the path that would lead him to his ends as though they were written plainly before him. But somedays he did do something very brave and very stupid, and he felt _quite_ at home.

"What house do you think I would have been put in?"

"Hard to say, love. Don't really know you that well yet. Your little trick was worthy of a Slytherin. But then you're mighty sweet with that niffler, maybe you're a Hufflepuff."

She pouted theatrically. "And I thought running away with a pirate to learn magic was particularly brave and _dumb_."

Jack barked with delighted laughter, even surprising himself. "That it was, dearie, that it was."

Snuffles was inspecting a piece of shiny brass hardware on the side of the boat when suddenly a large wave crashed into the side of the vessel. Taken unawares, the little creature tumbled into the drink. Horrified, Elizabeth screamed, racing to the side of the boat. A strange _boom_ emitted from under the water, and there was a trail of bubbles marking the nifflers descent—weighed down by _all that gold_. Jack was a step ahead of her, diving over the side in a trice.

Quickly she pulled at a few knots, letting the sail luff so that the boat would not speed too far away. With her heart in her throat Elizabeth watched the water where Snuffles and then Jack had disappeared. She gripped the side of the boat so hard her knuckles turned white, holding her breath.

When it seemed so much time passed that it would be impossible for a man to hold his breath so long, Jack surfaced with a great gasp, holding Snuffles aloft. The creature squirmed in his grasp, expelling water from its beak indignantly.

Coughing, Jack handed up the squirming animal, and Elizabeth clutched Snuffles close to her chest. "Oh thank God."

Jack didn’t think _God_ had anything to do with it, but with a mouth full of seawater he declined to comment. He managed to haul himself over the side and sprawled on the bottom of the boat, catching his breath. His ears rang from the depth he'd so quickly dived to, and he cringed as one painfully rang and then popped as he worked his jaw. Elizabeth crouched next to him, touching his cheek. "Are _you_ alright?"

He narrowed his eyes to mask the way his heart fluttered in his chest at her touch. It was clear where he stood on her roster, that was for sure. "M'Fine." He pushed her hand away. "And don't look at me like that, I only did it because that little git has our income for the whole year stashed away in his belly. I usually keep him in a cage you know, for the voyage, for this _very_ reason."

Elizabeth, however, did not seem to be entirely convinced, and her little smile told him so. "Very well, I shant laud you a hero then. And to think I was going to reward you with another kiss."

She returned to her seat with Snuffles in arms, fussing over the lucky little bugger, and did not see Jack's pained expression. Of course it was ridiculous that he would even still be interested in that kiss.

Crazy.

Downright mental.

He should have been throwing _her_ overboard. But alas, his befuddled brain was sadly not having it.

With a heavy sigh Jack began stripping off his sopping wet clothing, securing them to the boom so that they could dry in the breeze. When he was down to bare chest he felt the weight of Lizzy's gaze on him, and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"What's a matter lass, never seen a man in his own skin before?"

"Of course _not_ ," she hissed, quickly looking away.

His grin widened, and he couldn't help but rub it in, reaching up to adjust the sail so that they might get going again. The size of the boat made proximity inevitable, and he could nearly feel the heat from Lizzy's blush. His bare sun-browned skin was muscled, scarred, and tattooed—she'd never imagined a man like this could seem so perfectly _edible_.

" _Must_ you do that in this state of undress?" she spat, leaning away with a firm grip on the niffler.

"Fraid I didn't bring a spare set of threads, love, and wet clothing ain't exactly my idea of comfort. Should I be worried you might make untoward advances upon me?" His leer in the sun was blinding.

"You would like that, wouldn't you." Her glare was scathing.

"A few days ago, maybe I would have," he admitted, retying another knot just for something to do. "Not so certain now."

It stung to hear it, which somehow only fueled Lizzy's annoyance more. _How dare he?_ Then Jack turned, bringing a giant purple and green bruise on his ribs into view. Elizabeth could not hold back her gasp, and without thinking she reached out to brush her fingers upon his ribs.

Jack froze.

"They did this to you."

_She did that to him._

"You seem surprised?" All teasing vanished from his tone.

"I never thought...I thought they would just take you away."

Jack chuckled, a bitter little laugh that hurt her heart. "You're a smart girl, Lizzy, but you still have a thing or two to learn about the world."

She sighed heavily, daring to trace another smaller bruise higher on his side. Her touch played havoc with his insides, leaving him torn between the urge to put as much distance between them as he could, or leaning into her tentative curious _inexperienced_ little hands. Maybe she had a lot to learn, but he could certainly teach her...

"I’m sorry," she said, seemingly sincere. "For what it’s worth, I never thought this would happen to you."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, playing it off. "I've had worse."

"I'll make it up to you."

Unable to stand anymore of her gentle inquiring touch without losing his sanity, Jack caught her hand in his own.

"I know you will. With the contents of that little beastie's treasure pouch."

Again she bristled. "You can't have it _all_."

"I can't?" He crouched before her, her hand still in his grasp. He did not hurt her, but again she could feel the strength in that hand. It both unnerved and aroused in equal measure, fool that she was.

"No." The word did not come out quite as steadfast as she'd hoped it would. “Perhaps you’d best recall what happened last time you underestimated me?”

The corner of Jack’s well-made mouth ticked. “Don’t worry, dearie. I don’t trust you any farther than I could throw you.”

Her eyes strayed down to his arms, appendages that were tightly banded with wiry sailor’s muscle. Narrowly resisting the urge to reach out and trace a tattoo on his bicep, she warned, “Perhaps not even that far, if you know what’s good for you.”

A long moment passed in which the pirate and the lady surveyed each other, taking each other’s measure. She was _mad_ to be here in this moment, having thrown her future away on the chance—for a thief’s promise could be considered nothing more than that—that he would give her the knowledge she so desired. Open the world to which she so longed to belong. And yet Jack knew what it was like to leave all you knew to be thrust into a world that was uncertain and alien. Only he didn't have anyone looking over his shoulder then. When he took a false step in the strange world of Muggles, he fell hard on his face, more times than he could count.

"How old are you, Lizzy?"

The question seemed to take her unawares. "Nineteen," she answered with little resistance.

He'd been _seventeen_ when he'd been sent into exile. Two years younger. And yet...had he _ever_ been this brave? His thumb caressed the back of her fingers, causing a hitch in her breath, but in the end he let her go. It seemed a very good idea to take a seat by the tiller, and maybe stay there for the rest of the voyage. It was the only way he would resist snatching her up.

"Could the wand help?" she asked, turning in her seat. "Is there a spell that could heal you?"

"Healing spells were never my forte," he admitted . "And they ain't exactly beginner’s magic either."

She looked disappointed to hear it. _She doesn't care about you, mate_ , he told himself. _She just doesn't like to feel guilty._

"Oh. Could it do more harm than good?"

Jack laughed a little. "Saw someone try to heal a broken arm once who didn't really know how. Instead of mending the bones, he turned them to mush. Had to regrow them from scratch with a potion."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide as saucers. "Oh my."

Somehow, the mood of the journey lightened considerably from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and your comments!!


	6. A Joyous Day for Jack Sparrow!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Elizabeth settle in.

# 6\. A Joyous Day for Jack Sparrow!

 

Elizabeth was utterly _enchanted_ by her first sight of Shipwreck Cove. The harbor was filled with boats and ships of all shapes, sizes, and colors, crewed by misfits and outlaws from all across the globe. Jack did not seem half so enthused, and even after so short a time knowing him Elizabeth could tell his guard was up. He slung her bag of what little she’d brought over his shoulder, and she held Snuffles in a covered cage in her left hand.

"Stick close to me, Lizzy," he instructed after they tied up his boat, giving her a once over as they stood on the dock. He pulled her tricorn lower over her eyes. "And keep your head down."

She frowned, clearly not liking the idea, wanting to look about with unfettered wonder at her new surroundings. "Why?"

"Because you're lovelier than Helen of Troy herself, and this is a hard place filled with bad men. Humour me, eh? There's a lot of them and only one of me."

Elizabeth’s heart fluttered for the compliment he paid her, and then felt quite silly for letting him distract her with flattery. In the end she frowned. "I can handle myself. You don't have to protect me."

Jack paid her a long look that made her squirm a little inside. Was her memory so short? The truth was that responsibility for another human being—for a _lady_ \--made him right uneasy. And yet...there was a desire to protect her rooted somewhere too deep to tear out, it seemed. It was how they had begun their unlikely acquaintance, and even if it was against his better judgement, Jack saw no going back from it.

"Have it your way," he shrugged, knowing that giving this girl orders was the _last_ way to get anywhere with her. "You want to get yourself hurt or killed before you have the chance to cast your first unlocking charm, fine." He started down the dock, and counted the seconds. One, two, three...

The sound of booted feet rushing down the dock made him smile to himself. His wicked heart fluttered in his chest as she even looped her arm with his, staying very close _indeed_.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, patting her hand on his arm. She grumbled something under her breath that might have been _insufferable man,_ but it only made his smile widen.

They wound through the alleys of the Cove, sidestepping the early drunks stumbling through the streets and wending through crowds of onlookers taking in various forms of entertainment. There were some cat-calls, though mostly from pirates who seemed rather under the impression Elizabeth was a boy, and nothing came of it. However Elizabeth’s grip travelled down Jack’s arm slowly with each startling new sight, until eventually her fingers twined with his. Jack’s heart jumped in his chest, but he did not taunt her, giving her hand an assuring squeeze. He rather liked her like this, sweet and a bit unsure and _not_ at his throat…

It couldn’t last.

They reached Jack’s leaning tower of flotsam thankfully without incident, and climbed the creaky stairs that led up to Jack’s rented rooms, housed in what had once been a Spanish caravel now divided into living quarters for several tenants. It was rather shabby to what she was used to living in Kings House, and he strangely felt keenly aware of it.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he grumbled, and produced an old iron key. He turned the lock and swung open the door with a flourish. For rooms that were supposedly uninhabited for some time, it smelled surprisingly heavenly inside. Elizabeth followed him in, looking around with healthy curiosity. All manners of objet and curiosities from around the world hung from the ceiling and covered shelves on the walls, as well as a great many books. Paper dragons, kites, and model ships; bird cages and strange plants by the window. There was a table, two chairs, a stove, and a small creature with large ears and huge green eyes standing in the middle of the floor.

"Jack Sparrow has returned!" exclaimed the little being. "And Jack Sparrow has brought home a bride? Oh, what a joyous day for Jack Sparrow!" He vigorously shook Jack's hand, and then exuberantly clasped Elizabeth's. She was too flabbergasted by the little creature’s enthusiasm to say anything.

Jack couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry to disappoint ye Darby, but I ain't been made an honest man yet. This is Miss Elizabeth. She's going to be staying with us for a...spell."

Jack's play on words went completely over the creature’s bat-eared head.

"Oh! Miss Elizabeth! I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, welcome! Welcome!" The little creature still had not stopped shaking Elizabeth's hand, but she took it in stride.

"And I am pleased to meet you...Darby?"

"Yes mum, Darby, Darby the Free Elf, but Darby is just fine."

She laughed and looked to Jack questioningly. Was it poor manners to question what an elf was in front of said elf? It didn't matter. She reckoned they would get along swimmingly.

“I has just made a partridge pie!” said Darby proudly. “Surely Mas—Mister and Miss are famished from their journey?”

The reason for the heavenly smell was made apparent.

“Do we _have_ partridges in the Cove?” asked Jack, looking a tad suspicious.

“Well…they may have been parrots, sir, but I thinks they baked up rather well.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, turning an amused glance in Lizzy’s direction. “Well, lass, are ye hungry?”

After living on a dwindling store of ginger cakes and the very bottom of the barrel of Jack’s salted pork on the boat, Elizabeth was not feeling picky. She clearly surprised him as she answered, “Quite.”

 

**XXX**

 

After dinner Darby declined Elizabeth’s offer to help with the dishes, seemingly happy to putter about the kitchen cleaning up, singing under his breath.

They decided to lay out their loot on the table to assess their take. There were gold necklaces set with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds. Pearl bobs the size of grapes, and strands as long as Elizabeth’s arm. Silver hair combs and her father's shoe buckles.

Elizabeth felt a slight pang of guilt at viewing them again, thinking of her father and how he must be beside himself with worry. She’d left a note assuring him of her love but declaring that she’d left of her own will to find her destiny—James Norrington would be sent out to find her _immediately_ upon returning, she had no doubt. But Jack assured her this place was an impenetrable stronghold the pirates had used for hundreds of years. They had all the time in the world.

Jack seemed amused that Elizabeth thought she’d charmed the whole hoard from Snuffle’s seemingly endless pouch. “Hate to tell you, love, but there’s only one way to completely clean out a niffler.” He picked the little animal up by his hind legs and began to shake him.

Furious, Elizabeth bolted to her feet intent on saving Snuffles from this cruel treatment—until the entire five piece sterling tea set from King’s House miraculously clanged out onto the table. _Then_ the silver service for twenty, heavy spoons forks and knives all made in London. And then even _more_ gold on top of that, including a strange coin and a golden key.

Flabbergasted, Elizabeth sat back in her chair. “ _Oh_.” She picked up the key, curious. “I’ve never seen this before.” She turned it over and over in her hand. The filigree of the handle was exceptionally fine, set with a shining green stone. “It must have come from my father’s things.”

Jack schooled his face to a blank slate at viewing that key, recognizing it very well, and knowing _exactly_ what it went to. “Or your mother, perhaps,” he answered neutrally.

She regarded him from beneath her long lashes, seeming to sense there was something more Jack had to say about this object. But he kept mum, and she decided not to push him.

 _Yet_ , at any rate.

"This had better be more than a _year's_ income," said Elizabeth, touching a diamond tiara wistfully. These little rooms were hardly Buckingham House--how could a man burn through so much wealth that quickly? Of course, Jack could, and easily too. There wasn’t much to do in the Cove but drink, gamble, and entertain a wench or two. But this time he decided he would try to be a _tad_ more responsible with his earnings, considering.

_Bloody hell, he really was going soft._

He would fence it slowly; no need to attract the notice of his neighbors, who of course would not think twice about robbing them blind. He himself wouldn’t have felt guilty, though it was bad practice to shit in your own backyard, and so he didn’t let the niffler run free in the Cove.

"Oh, it is," Jack assured her, still rather starry eyed. He'd never had a haul like this, truth be told. He noticed the way she ran her fingers over the diamonds, a bit misty eyed, and he felt an uncharacteristic bout of guilt. "Anything here have a particular sentimental value?"

Elizabeth sighed. "This belonged to my mother," she admitted.

"Keep it then. That too.” He pointed at the key, and then produced a metal chest from beneath a floorboard. “The rest we’ll split as we go.” He began to put the valuables inside, pausing to inspect the strange coin. It had a very angular design of a stylized skull, it looked Aztec or Mayan perhaps, or maybe even Inca. After living in the Caribbean he’d gained a keen interest in the art of the native peoples of the Americas, and cringed at the thought of what had been lost to the Spanish conquest. “What’s this?”

Elizabeth looked to the coin and shrugged. “I don’t know. I found it on the beach after a storm one day.”

Jack frowned as he looked down at the coin. For some reason it gave him a dark feeling, and he threw it into the chest with the rest, wiping his hand on his tunic. It was an interesting piece, but perhaps he would fence that _first._ Jack secured the chest with three padlocks. “Only way to keep that little bugger out,” he explained, nodding towards the niffler who had curled in Elizabeth’s lap, eyeing the chest full of treasure wistfully.

“Ah. Of course.”

She watched as Jack secreted the chest back away under the floor, covering the loose board with a brightly colored rug.

Finding a jug of rum, Jack took a swig. “Want to see something?”

Ever curious, Elizabeth nodded, and Jack led her outside and up the stairs of the companionway of the caravel. It led to the open deck, and there was a view of a great deal of the city and the harbor from the forecastle. The sun was setting across the bay, painting the sky in bright pinks, oranges, and violets.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but be amazed by the unlikely architecture of the place. “How does it not collapse in on itself?” she marveled, looking at the piles of ships that spread as far as the eye could see.

Jack shrugged, taking another swig. “Sometimes it does,” he admitted, taking a sea at the edge of the deck, his bare feet swinging freely over the abyss. A tad more carefully Elizabeth took a seat beside him. He offered her a drink from his jug, which she accepted, and then immediately regretted after taking a gulp.

“Oh God. That’s _wretched_ ,” she said between coughs, wiping her mouth with the inside of her elbow.

Jack chuckled and took another drink. “The Cove’s finest Killdevil, love. An _acquired_ taste, perhaps.”

For a while they sat and watched the busy city below. It seemed to come even more to life as the sun was going down. Laughter drifted up, the strains of a fiddle, and the unmistakable sound of a brawl. However, as they had found on their voyage, silences were easy between them. Though Elizabeth was well trained in the art of filling the air with prattle, somehow it was a relief just to sit in someone’s company and be _still_.

“Darby is very sweet,” she finally said as the sun slipped below the horizon, the sky awash in an inky indigo blue. “What on earth is he doing here with you?”

Jack laughed a bit at that, for he often wondered the same thing. “’Spose I have a talent for picking up _strays_ , as you can tell.”

She huffed. “I don’t suppose he wanted to learn magic too?”

“Oh no, house elves have plenty of magic all their own.”

“House elves. Of course.” Jack smiled, watching her out the corner of his eye.

Elizabeth sighed contentedly, resting her head against the gunwale. Something tugged at Jack’s insides, something that rather wished she’d lean the other way, and rest that pretty head on _his_ shoulder.

He really had gone daft, surely. She herself had warned him not to trust her, and yet here he was, sharing everything he owned in the world with this girl, and not terribly unhappy to do it either.

“When do we start our lessons?”

Jack took another drink. “Tomorrow, I suppose, though I have to warn you I’ve never fancied myself a teacher. It took six years and several talented witches and wizards to teach me what I know. To be honest I’m not really sure where to start with you.”

Elizabeth paid him an earnest smile that for some reason made his heart ache. “I’m certain you will improvise nicely, Jack Sparrow.”

At least one of them had some faith.

They returned down to the rooms, and Jack showed Elizabeth the smaller chamber off to the side. "I suppose you’ll sleep here," Jack said. Elizabeth peeked inside, finding a bed and a bright little embroidered cushion beside it that Elizabeth realized must belong to Snuffles. For some reason it warmed her heart.

"I...then where will you sleep?"

The corner of Jack’s mouth quirked, and he paid her a look that somehow caused a flush of heat to curl in her belly and wash over her skin. She veritably _burned,_ and a part of her wanted to take a step back, unnerved by the vehemence of her reaction. A teasing comment about sharing the bed danced on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason Jack swallowed it.

"I’ll hang a cot out here, love. No worries."

He really was going soft in the head. What had she _done_ to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thaaaaaaank you for reading and of course your sweet comments!! They absolutely make my day!


	7. Half Bloods in Good Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Elizabeth learn a bit more about each other's pasts.

# 7\. Half-Bloods in Good Company

 

Elizabeth took to magic like a fish to water. Perhaps it helped that she was an older and extremely focused pupil, but Jack suspected most of the credit went to her being exceptionally bright. Within a _month_ she had mastered all the first year spells he could remember, including _lumos_ , _alohomora_ , levitation and petrification. They moved on to more complicated charms, and she continued to shine.

It hurt a bit to see her like this, like staring into the sun too long. She was brilliant and beautiful, filled with delight and wonder and triumph. Within a week Jack knew she was wasted on him. That he should tell her the origin of that special goblin made key, and take her to London where she could begin to unlock the mystery of her birthright. She could go to Hogwarts, and explain her situation, and surely one of the professors would see her right.

But the more time Elizabeth spent in Jack's company, holed up in these once cramped rooms now filled with her laughter and her light, the more Jack wanted her to stay a little longer, and a little longer, and a little longer…

He didn't want to let her go.

He knew he was a perfect git, but he found himself slowing down their lessons, teaching her one spell at a time when she could have absorbed two or three a day, and taking an extra day to master them when she already quite clearly had it all down.

When the guilt became a tad too uncomfortable for his liking he reminded himself that she wasn't exactly _unhappy_ in his company. He felt it when her gaze lingered a bit too long, or when her fingers brushed his as they passed the wand. There was a definite tension between them that was not exactly borne of distrust. The sound of her gasp when they brushed shoulders in that little room was ridiculously intoxicating, and it was all Jack could do not to grab her up and finally make good on that long coveted lock of lips.

Jack had never exercised so much self-control in regards to a woman in his _life_.

She and Darby were soon thick as thieves, and she had the savvy house elf making a reasonably similar version of her cook’s ginger cakes, which in turn placated Snuffles into a mild-mannered house niffler who liked snuggling and sweets far more than shiny trinkets filling his belly.

He was so enamored with Elizabeth that it greatly surprised Jack late one evening when the little creature pawed at Jack’s leg while the pirate was enjoying a cup of grog at the kitchen table, the lesson plan for the next day spread out before him. He tried to jot down what he could in his journal, searching the corners of his brain for long forgotten tidbits. But the fact was that he was running out of things to teach her, and it made him sadder than he had any business being.

“In need of a lap, you fat little bugger?” teased Jack, reaching down to pick up the niffler with an exaggerated groan. Elizabeth was sleeping, her door open just a crack. Jack tried not to take it as an invitation, reminding himself that it was so that the niffler could come and go as he pleased. Snuffles curled up in a ball in the cradle of Jack’s legs, making small noises of approval as the pirate scratched his head. “What has she done to us, mate? We used to be wolves, hungry and mean, and now look at us. Fat and happy as lap dogs.”

It was true. Well, perhaps Jack himself wasn’t getting _fat,_ but he was _happy_. The last time he’d been this content…his memory drifted to a cozy country cottage filled with raucous red headed children, two of whom who had been his best mates. He briefly allowed himself to remember that warm fuzzy feeling to be had when sitting around a simple but hearty meal with loved ones, perhaps not related by blood but family all the same.

_Family._

It wasn’t something he really allowed himself to think on anymore, it just hurt _too much—_ but Elizabeth’s presence here evoked that same sweet feeling, and he knew he was a fool for letting it sink in even for a second.

 _She’ll leave soon, mate,_ he reminded himself. _She’s got bigger fish to fry, and she deserves better._ He took another drink of rum, finding some solace in the spreading numbness that ensued. _And even if you could keep her_ that voice chided _what exactly do you think you could do with her?_

Somehow, _love her_ didn’t seem like a good enough answer. Not by half.

Little did he know, Elizabeth had woken from her slumber, and at hearing Jack’s low voice had gone to peer through the crack in the door. The sight of him speaking softly to Snuffles, scratching behind what might have been his ear, melted her heart in a way she was not exactly prepared for.

She did not know precisely what to make of Jack Sparrow, truth be told. He could be gruff one moment and patient the next. Sweet one minute and then sarcastic a few seconds later, as though he needed to balance his kindness with some sort of mischief at all times. Despite the more difficult instants, she felt herself softening to him more and more with every passing day. She wanted him, in ways she didn’t entirely understand. Ways she had been warned to guard against at all costs as a lady—but she wasn’t a lady anymore, and it was so tempting to ask him to add this forbidden knowledge to their curriculum of studies as well. It was a lesson she felt certain he would rather relish in teaching her.

A part of her longed to go to him just then, to say something _unbelievably_ forward, to press her lips to his—but in the end she quashed the impulse and went back to bed, where she tossed and turned restlessly for the rest of the evening.

 

**XXX**

 

“Darby, how did you meet Jack?” asked Elizabeth while peeling a root vegetable that somewhat resembled a potato. Since those first days on the boat the pirate was increasingly cagey about his past, and Elizabeth decided to resort to the house elf for answers.

Darby paused for a moment in stirring the pot on the stove, his large ears lifting. Jack Sparrow didn’t really like to talk about the past, the house elf well knew. But Elizabeth had been here long enough—and Darby wasn’t stupid. He saw the way Jack Sparrow looked at this girl, with a longing that perhaps the pirate himself hadn’t quite yet come to identify. There was a softness in Jack Sparrow’s gaze that extended beyond lust, and Darby reckoned he hadn’t been _too_ far off in assuming Elizabeth was his friend’s new bride.

Only time would tell.

In the end, Darby answered, “He freed me, Miss Elizabeth. He tricked my wicked master into giving me clothes, and made me a Free Elf. Jack Sparrow would have freed all the elves of Hogwarts, if nots for that meddling boy Cutler Beckett.”

Elizabeth canted her head at hearing this, sensing that now they were getting somewhere. “Cutler Beckett? Is that the boy Jack dueled?”

“Aye, mum. Jack Sparrow had him a plan to trick the headmaster into giving all the elves clothes at Christmas. Candies that was charmed to turn into socks that would have been given out to the staff on Boxing Day, it was brilliant mum! But young Cutler was Head Boy of Slytherin, and he and Jack hated each other since first year. When Cutler found out he tattled straight away.”

“And they _dueled_ over this?”

“Aye. Cutler was furious Jack Sparrow wasn’t expelled for the caper of the sock candies. So he challenged him to a duel.”

“And Cutler tried to _kill_ Jack?”

“Yes mum. With the _most_ unforgiveable curse.”

“Avada Kedavra.”

Just hearing the words seemed to make Darby uneasy. “That’s the one,” he answered quietly. “But Jack Sparrow was quicker. Afore Cutler could get the words out, Jack cast his own curse.”

_Crucio._

Jack had told her that much, and the thought sent a shiver down Elizabeth’s spine. It was hard to reconcile the sweet silly pirate she knew with the casting of such awful dark magic. “I suppose it was just the first defense he could think of,” she justified, to herself as much as Darby.

“Probably, miss Elizabeth. Probably. But…”

Elizabeth canted her head, eagerly awaiting the rest of his sentence. When it seemed Darby had decided against finishing his thought she prompted, “But?”

Darby sighed. “You’ve learned enough magic now, miss. You know that a spell won’t work unless the caster _means_ the words. But Cutler Beckett deserved it, he did. He were always a mean one, just like his father.”

“How do you know that?”

“’Cause I served the Beckett family for a long long time, miss Elizabeth. They’s one of the oldest and most powerful families in wizardom, but ain’t none of ‘em nice.”

Elizabeth’s lips formed in a silent O of understanding. “And you said Cutler hated Jack since first year? Why?”

“Because I was a filthy half-blood who wasn’t fit to kiss his boots, much less share a schoolroom with him.”

Elizabeth and Darby both jumped at hearing Jack’s voice, both unaware that he’d returned from his errand in town. Darby’s green eyes went wide, his bat-like ears slicked back, clearly worried that Jack would be cross with him. But the pirate just paid his old friend a half smile, and set his parcel down on the table. “Telling tales about me, Darby?”

“No sir, only the truth.”

Jack made a face as he shrugged out of his coat. “Even worse. What’s for supper?”

Easy as that, the tension leaked from the room, though there was a shadow in Jack’s eyes for the rest of the evening.

 

**XXX**

 

After dinner Elizabeth sought Jack on the open deck above. She found him seated at the edge with his jug of rum, overlooking to the city the way he liked to at sunset.

“What’s a half-blood?”

“A wizard of mixed, and some would say questionable, lineage,” answered Jack with little hesitation. “Me mum was a witch who ran off with a handsome muggle. Dear grandad never forgave her for it, and made sure I knew it too.”

“Then I suppose I’m a half-blood too,” she mused, seeming somewhat taken by the novelty of the idea. All her life she’d been told she was _better_ according to the circumstance of her birth. Somehow it was _freeing_ to know, as perhaps she’d suspected all along, that it was a steaming load of horse shite. “You’re in good company.”

He smiled a little at that over his shoulder. “So I am.” Elizabeth sat next to Jack, and he passed her his jug. This time when she took a swig she didn’t _quite_ feel like she might die, but it was still rough stuff.

“How did they die? Your parents?”

“Drowned. Their ferry flipped, crossing a river after a rainstorm. The water was swift and it took them both down.” It might have been prevented, had his father not insisted his mother leave her wand at home when she went out among muggles. A mistake they both paid for with their lives, and left Jack an orphan to the tender care of ol’ Teague.

Jack nearly jumped when he felt Elizabeth’s hand cover his. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Jack might have drawn away, except…with a few swigs of rum in him he felt rather warm inside, and it didn’t seem so wrong to lace his fingers with hers, and it didn’t hurt _quite_ as much to think on the past. “It was a long time ago.”

They both knew that didn’t really make it any better. Not something like this.

“And how…did you lose your mum?” Jack felt bold enough to ask. It was something he’d been wondering about since the beginning, though it hadn’t seemed right to inquire until just now.

Elizabeth pressed her lips, thinking about her answer. She wasn’t supposed to know the truth of that, and she’d never discussed it with _anyone_ before. Her pulse suddenly thundered in her ears, the ache she always knew when she thought of her mother pressing against her heart. She opened her mouth, and for a moment it seemed that no words would come. That she didn’t have the strength to make them. But in the end she managed, “I was very young. So I didn’t really understand at the time, and my father always refused to speak of it. But later I found out…that she was murdered.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up into his bandana. He’d expected something like childbirth, a fever, an _accident_. Something more ladylike than a _violent_ death. “ _Murdered_?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded. “I was there when they took her. Two men in black cloaks. We were out for a walk in the countryside, picking berries. She hid me behind a tree when suddenly they just…appeared, it seemed. There was a flash, and suddenly they were gone. She didn’t even have time to scream.”

Elizabeth gripped Jack’s hand hard with the memory, but he let her, a furrow in his brow as she told her tale.

“I was terrified. I looked and looked for where she’d gone, calling and calling. The gamekeeper found me later that night, curled up under that oak tree, still calling…” Her voice cracked as she recalled that awful day, and Jack’s heart broke all over again for her. He didn’t even think before lifting his arm in invitation, beckoning her closer. “Love, I’m sorry. C’mere.” She found it was such an easy thing to scoot closer, and rest her head on his shoulder.

In the relative security of his arms, she found the strength to continue her story. “They didn’t find my mother until much later, on the other side of the wood. She was dead, and they had taken all of her hair. She had the most beautiful golden locks, and they plucked every single one out of her head.”

Dumbfounded, Jack stared, his jaw nearly falling to the deck. “Blimey. You really _are_ a Veela. Or half a one, at least.”

Elizabeth frowned. “A _what_?”

Jack might have laughed out of pure disbelief, but somehow he managed not to put his foot in his mouth upon hearing this terrible terrible tale. “A Veela,” he said again quietly, reaching up to curl a stray lock of her hair around his finger. “A magical creature of untold power, charm, and beauty. And Veela hair is powerful stuff. It’s used in wand making, and for other spells. I’d bet my right toe it was dark wizards who took your mum, Lizzy. You’re lucky they didn’t take you too.”

Elizabeth stared at him in shock. “ _Veela_ ,” she said quietly, testing the word on her tongue. “I wonder…if my father even knew.”

“Maybe not. But I can tell you one thing, darlin’. Keep this story between us, eh? No one else needs to know, for your own good.”

Slowly she nodded, fairly mystified by this new information and feeling raw from dredging up old memories of her mother again.

“Could she have known?” Elizabeth asked. “Could she have sensed them? Is that why she hid me?”

Jack nodded, his features uncommonly grave. “More than likely, love. It’s possible she was expecting them to come, someday.” Though native to Eastern Europe, the Veela had scattered to the four corners of the globe in the last century, fleeing those who would harvest their hair for their own sordid use.

Elizabeth could not stop them. Like blood welling from a re-opened wound, tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, and as Jack pulled her close she wept quietly against his chest. There was so much she did not know about her mother. So much her father had not told her, or perhaps not even known himself. She felt cheated, in a way, but mostly, there was just sadness. An overwhelming sorrow that filled her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she could not fight it that night. She let it all flow through her.

When Elizabeth finally lifted her head, exhausted, true darkness had fallen upon the Cove, the golden lights of candles and lanterns dancing down below. Shakily she took in a deep breath, inhaling the smell of the city, the heady masculine sweat and spice scent of Jack, and Darby’s cooking fire below. It smelled like he was baking something, the industrious little elf. The thought of Snuffles watching Darby patiently, awaiting his share, lifted Elizabeth’s spirits a little.

“Are ye alright, love?” asked Jack cautiously, producing a handkerchief that had been patched in three places.

She nodded, accepting the hanky gratefully, wiping her eyes and her nose. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

In that moment they both seemed painfully aware of how very close they sat, and though she knew she should move away, Elizabeth found she could not quite bring herself to budge. Very slowly, Jack lifted a hand to stroke the curve of her cheek with one finger, his touch light as a butterfly’s wing. Of their own accord her eyes slipped closed, her head tilting back slightly. She felt so _hollow_ after crying, and somehow it seemed that maybe, just maybe if he would touch his lips to hers, some of that howling darkness might be filled with some light.

She didn’t have to wait long. Jack was far too keen on the opportunity to let it pass him by, though it took every iota of self-control he possessed not to fall on her like the hungry wolf he was. His full lips brushed hers, his long fingers sliding into her hair at the back of her skull sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Jack Sparrow kissed her slowly, and thoroughly, and one by one she felt every bone in her body melt. If not for his hold upon her she might have slipped right off the edge of the caravel’s deck.

A low growl emitted from deep in Jack’s throat, a primal sound that lifted gooseflesh all over her skin. His lips travelled the line of her jaw to her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse. “You should go back downstairs,” he told her, his voice rough in a way she’d not heard before.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly, tilting her head back as his lips explored the curve of her neck.

“Because I could eat you up, Lizzy, that’s why. Go.” He released her, and it took a good long moment for Elizabeth to regain her senses, to realize that he was _serious_. But she didn’t _want_ to go. She wanted…she didn’t know, but the heat in those burning black eyes made her want to stay in his arms.

“Jack?”

“ _Go_.”

He nudged her, and then uncertainty set in. Had she done something wrong? She’d never kissed a man before… Was she that bad at it? Slowly she pushed to her feet, finding her legs trembled beneath her weight. Without another word she fled down the companionway, somehow both elated and heartbroken all at once.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and especially for your comments! They always make my day! <3<3<3


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